Just Shut Up and Kiss Me
by Snapeaholic1
Summary: Juliet needs a little liquid courage to tell Carlton how she really feels. LASSIET - You've been warned.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first thing I have written in years, and I'm very much out of practice. Any errors are mine. Much appreciation to Loafer and Lawson227 for their absolutely fantastic stories that made me adore this pairing even more. I don't own Psych, just playing with my favorite characters.

Just Shut Up and Kiss Me

It took three glasses of wine to give Juliet O'Hara the courage to finally admit that she was in love with her partner and had been for quite some time.

She had woken that morning in a happy daze from a dream of blue eyes and steamy kisses and started her day smiling. She stepped out into the bright shining sun and felt her mood soar even higher. Her soul felt light, and everything seemed to shine and sparkle in the sunshine. Sometimes with everything she saw in the line of duty, she forgot exactly how beautiful Santa Barbara could be.

She stopped by her and Carlton's favorite coffee shop and picked up coffee for the two of them and, deciding they needed a treat, added a couple of blueberry muffins to the order.

It was quiet as she stepped into the station. Carlton was at his desk finishing up a report of the mugging they had investigated yesterday, the most action they had seen all week. Thank God crime was slow right now.

"Good morning, Carlton," she said, handing him one of the coffees. "Three creams, four sugars as per usual."

"Thanks, O'Hara." The smile that lit Carlton's face stunned her with its intensity, and she felt her world shift around her. She loved to see him smile, to see his bright blue eyes sparkle. He didn't smile enough, and she made a note to herself that she should try to make him happy more often.

She held out the bag of muffins. "Breakfast, too. Blueberry muffins."

"Coffee and muffins? What's the occasion?" Carlton asked.

Juliet shrugged. "It was a beautiful day, and I woke up happy." Carlton smiled again, and Juliet's heart felt as if it skipped a beat. Their hands brushed as she handed him the muffin, and she felt her insides curl up in anxious delight. A whisper of her dream came back to her, _blue eyes, passionate kisses._

They sat in companionable silence as they each went over their respective paperwork. Juliet tried to keep herself from stealing glances at her partner, but couldn't help sneaking peeks at him. She shuffled her paperwork around before chastising herself to keep her mind on her work.

Her thoughts drifted back to Carlton's eyes, his best features in her opinion. The piercing blue eyes sometimes felt as if they saw in to the very essence of her soul. They were just so _intense._ The remnants of her half-remembered dream drifted into her mind, and she realized with a jolt that the blue eyes she had been dreaming of were Carlton's, and he was the one with whom she had been sharing those hot kisses and passionate caresses. Desire pooled in her secret places, and she gave herself a sharp rebuke to get back to work.

When she had been assigned to Carlton, she had harbored a crush on him for while, but that had disappeared quickly as she learned the intensity of his personality and that he was separated from his wife and quite bitter about it. That didn't prevent her from admiring him greatly, especially how disciplined he was and how he held himself and those around him to the highest standards. That admiration had eventually turned into true, honest love, but she kept that to herself. Carlton had been burned once already by a romantic relationship with a female partner, and he had made it clear from the beginning that it would not happen again.

But it had been over six years since that time, and Carlton's personality had mellowed a bit. They had become the best of friends and the tightest of partners. They were in total sync and completed and complemented each other in ways that they would have never imagined possible in those first tumultuous weeks. When Mr. Yin had tied her to the clock tower, she knew without an ounce of doubt that Carlton would save her. In the aftermath, he had held her as she cried and had taken her home and watched over her for the next couple of days, there to comfort her when she woke screaming from nightmares of falling to her death, a cruel what-if game her mind played in her dreams

She had dated Shawn Spencer briefly afterwards, but he had found her con-artist, deadbeat dad and then repeatedly tried to coerce her to form a relationship with him despite her protestations. He was too casual, too handsy at crime scenes, and his subtle, and not so subtle put-downs of she and Carlton's abilities had irked her beyond belief. Not to mention most of their dates were chaperoned by his best friend Gus and consisted mostly of fast food and TV marathons. The final straw had been when he had thrown her a surprise birthday party complete with inflatable bouncy house. She had finally realized that Shawn would never grow up. For God's sake, he had thrown a party that a 12-year-old would adore - the 12-year-old Shawn still was inside.

She also had realized Shawn could not possibly be psychic. How could he think that she wanted her father there, especially after she had told him explicitly several times that she wanted nothing to do with Frank, explained the reasons over and over? He had his own father, one who was a fine, upstanding man and a legend in the Santa Barbara police force. Despite all the crap that Shawn had put him through, Henry Spencer was always there for his son, even if it was to kick his ass and then give him a hand up, and even Henry had raised an eyebrow when he had first eyed the bouncy house and then taken in her nice dress and heels.

Thank God for Carlton. When he had whispered happy birthday to her and given her his gift, she had clutched his arm and asked him to get her out of there, and he had. He had driven her to their favorite Baja restaurant, and they had shared a bottle of wine and then retired to her place to watch her favorite Dirty Harry movie. She had resisted with all her might the urge to kiss him that night, to tell him that he was her knight in shining armor. She had broken up with Shawn a few days later once Frank was gone and she had calmed down.

She sighed then, her happy mood of the morning squelched. It was hell being in love with someone she could never have.

Carlton knocked on her desk, startling her out of her ruminations. "You ready for lunch? I thought we could go back to that Baja place."

It was as if he could read her mind sometimes. "I would love that," she said, smiling.

Once they were seated in a back booth and their drinks served, Carlton steepled his fingers and asked, "What's on your mind? You've looked a million miles away all morning."

Juliet prayed she wasn't blushing. "Nothing much," she said. "Nothing to worry about."

He gave her the patented Carlton stare. "Don't make me have to interrogate you. It had to be something. Your face is bright red." She closed her eyes, _damn._

Juliet sat back in her seat and stirred her straw around her iced tea. She eyed Carlton subtly and wondered what he would do if she simply told him exactly what was on her mind.

"I mean it, O'Hara." The concern and stern command in his voice did what it always did to her when he had the occasion to use it on her. It made her clench her thighs tight with desire.

"Nothing. Is. Wrong," she repeated firmly.

"I don't believe you."

"It's personal. Leave it, Carlton."

"Fine." He retreated, and they ate their lunch in silence. Juliet wished she wasn't such a coward.

They made small talk in the car on the way back to the station, and they spent the rest of the day fielding what little work came their way. When 5:00 came, they said good-bye and parted quietly.

Once home, Juliet stepped into her house and leaned back against the door. It was time to shower, put on her jammies and have a glass of wine or two. If she was lucky, she would have that dream again, the one she awoke to, with blue eyes and passionate kisses. She hadn't realized before that she was so into self-torture.

After a day of being the dependable partner, she needed to feel like a desirable woman, so instead of her usual flannel pants and threadbare college tee, she opted for an ankle-length old-fashioned negligee and left her hair loose and curling around her shoulders. She poured her a glass of wine and put on her favorite romantic movie, hoping that loving vicariously through the characters would help quell the ache of her desire. She watched, laughed, and cried, and by the time the doorbell rang, she was deep into her third glass of wine.

"Carlton! What are you doing here?" she asked as she ushered him inside.

He was still in his work clothes, but he had taken off his tie. The neck of his shirt was open, and she could see the thick curling hair on his chest, the sight of which never failed to arouse her. His eyes widened as he took in her silky gown that she knew made her look as incredible as it made her feel and the bottle of wine on the coffee table.

"Do you have company? I'll leave." He started to retreat, sure that he intruding on something.

She shook her head. "Nope, just me. Come in and stay awhile."

"I just wanted to check on you," he said, running an anxious hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for pressuring you at lunch. You just seemed preoccupied all day and…" He trailed off, sitting on the couch. "Everything okay?"

She plopped next to him, swirling the remaining wine in her glass. She was not drunk, but just tipsy enough to boost her confidence and override her usual inhibition. "Do you still want to know what was on my mind?" she asked.

He spread his hands wide. "If you want to tell me, go for it."

She set down her glass and leaned in until she was nose to nose with him. "I was thinking about how long I've been in love with you and how much I want you to just shut up and kiss me."

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest just as Juliet's mouth pressed against his. He tasted of coffee, the faint hint of Jameson's, and something that was all Carlton. Juliet sobered instantly, wanting to remember every second, every sensation. Her body heated as he finally recovered from his shock and responded, deepening the kiss. Her hands travelled up and ran through that beautiful dark hair with the silvering at the temples. It was as soft as she had always thought it would be.

His hands grasped hers and pushed them into her lap, and she moaned in disappointment.

She closed her eyes, suddenly ashamed of having thrown herself at him. "I'm sorry, Carlton. It won't happen again." She felt the tears prick in her eyes, and she turned away from him. "Please don't ask for another partner," she whispered.

She promised herself she wouldn't cry until after he was gone, but instead of hearing the door open and close, his arms came around her and held her. "O'Hara," he whispered. "Juliet."

She had never heard such tenderness in his voice, and she lifted her head up, still afraid to turn and face him.

"Are you drunk?"

She laughed, the tension broken. "No, I'm not drunk."

"Do you really feel this way or is it the wine talking?" Those blue eyes seem to bore into her, and she turned to look at him once more.

"I've felt this way for years, Carlton," she said simply.

"For real?" His tone was incredulous.

She rolled her eyes. "For real, you paranoid ass."

He reached out a hand to grasp hers. "I want you to know that I have feelings for you, too, have for awhile. You're the best partner, best friend that I've ever had, O'Hara."

"We're on the same page then," she said. "Now shut up and kiss me."

They pressed their lips together once more, and it was like coming home. They were made for each other; her curves melted into his angles as six years of repressed emotion spilled forth. The desperateness in his kiss matched the passion in hers and ignited the smoldering fire in her belly. Her knees buckled, but he caught her easily. This was what she had wanted for so long.

Seven years of partnership meant that she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. They could read each other and react to the other instinctively. Each touch from one to the other fanned the flames of desire higher and higher until there was nothing but this inferno of sexual energy engulfing them and driving them closer and closer to the edge with each devouring kiss. They scarcely remembered how they managed to lose their clothes nor the stumbling, frantic steps to Juliet's bedroom. They were only cognizant of the skin beneath their fingertips, the moans and sighs of delight, and the silp and slide of their bodies together as they made that delectable friction that sent them spiraling into brilliant ecstasy, and in that shining, decadent moment, Juliet knew for sure that she had never loved nor would ever love anyone as much as she loved Carlton Lassiter.

It was a several long, quiet moments afterward that they rolled apart and lay staring at the ceiling in contemplation. She knew she had to say something to stop Carlton's inevitable self-recriminations.

"You realize you're stuck with me, right? I'm not letting you go ever again."

A long, low chuckle answered her. "I don't plan on running, O'Hara."

"Juliet while we're in bed. Should we draw straws on who gets to tell Vick?"

"Juliet," he agreed, "and I have a straw you can draw." She laughed and loved the answering smile and twinkle in his eye. With that, Carlton threw himself at her and pinned her underneath him.

"Just shut up and kiss me," he said.

And with that, their future was secured. They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, and when the morning came, Carlton left to shower and change at his condo. Juliet met him at the station, enjoying a brief but intense kiss in the parking lot for reassurance, and together they went in to tell Vick privately of the change in their status as partners. Karen Vick took their news in stride, stating that as long as their police work didn't suffer, she was fine with them staying partners.

"Don't do anything to make me regret this decision," she said as she shooed them out of her office.

Juliet and Carlton worked together even better than before, and it was business as usual. They still squabbled over cases, but it was bliss. They spent their days together on the force and their nights in her bed. Carlton eventually sold the condo, and they bought a house together. The week after they signed closing papers, they were married in a small ceremony on the beach, attended only by a handful of friends.

Once the party was over, they went home. Carlton stopped her before she could enter, picked her up and carried her over the threshold to their new home and then set her down carefully.

"Welcome home, Detective Lassiter."

She looked around. They had finally gotten everything moved in and organized the day before, but the house seemed to take on a new light and a new promise with the magic of their union.

"Home," she agreed.

"Think you can stand me for the next fifty years?" Carlton asked as he put his arms around her.

"Probably not," she said, grinning. "Just shut up and kiss me."

And he did.

The End


End file.
